


A Little Bit of Chaos, from Me to You

by twotoed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst Free, Commiserating about bad senses of direction, Dwarf blood, Elf hair, For the most part at least, Gen, Hobbit toenails, I'll try harder on the tags later, I'm sure there'll be violence eventually, No it isn't a potion, Spider guts, dragon scales
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twotoed/pseuds/twotoed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry could've done with a nice, relaxing day. In fact, he could've done with about 368 of them (a wizard needed few extra in a year after all). He'd lose a lot of money if those cards existed in the deck Fate used to deal out Harry's hand, but he unfortunately wouldn't be loosing it anytime soon by the looks of things.</p><p>Thorin's company had thought that no one was worse than Thorin was with directions, (and a few of them told Thorin so, repeatedly). Then they stumbled upon a scrawny lad who wasn't even aware he was in Mirkwood. How he had ever convinced his parents to let him leave home was a mystery. With that sort of skill he wouldn't notice he had wandered into a den of orcs until it was too late. In fact, he might not even know about orcs...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Mirkwood

**Author's Note:**

> I'd noticed that there seem to be a lack of Harry Potter and Hobbit crossovers, at least without Harry shrinking or something. I could be wrong, I didn't look too hard. But this is my contribution to filling what might be a nonexistent void. I write short chapters, because I write them in one sitting, and my sittings are short. They are un-beta'd, so feel free to point out specific errors.
> 
> Oh, I should put this in the tags someday, but although I read all the HP books, that was back when they first came out; I never saw the movies. I read the Hobbit a few times, but the last time I did that was some years ago. If you expect adherence to cannon character, terribly sorry, not happening.

His shoulder crashed into a tree trunk, scraping off both skin and bark.Momentum carried him farther forward, but he managed to regain his footing right before smashing face first into the next tree. Thankfully. It looked just as nasty as the one that so unhelpfully jammed his shoulder.

Harry rolled his arm as he straightened. In a day or two there’d be a dark bruise to accompany the scrapes. Unless he used magic to heal it before then. He surveyed his surroundings carefully.With his luck, it wouldn’t have surprised him if he’d landed in the middle of a bunch of people plotting to kill him. Or before a large crowd of muggles with mobile phones and cameras that would make obliviating the lot of them an exercise in near futility. Using more magic in front of them to heal a scrape before their eyes would only compound the issue.

However, all Harry could see were trees. Lots and lots of trees, foliage thick enough to mostly obscure the sun, leaving the forest ground dim and relatively undergrowth free. Oh, that and what looked like old giant spider webs.His luck was still working as expected then, regardless of the lack of murderous people. How irritating. 

It would be more irritating if he was unable to...he flickered for a moment, then wavered unsteadily on his feet afterwards. Well. There weren’t anti-apparition wards, even if there was something making the air heavy. He was simply unable apparate to first location he tried.And the second. And the third. And the fourth.As for the fifth, he was too dizzy to attempt it. He steadied himself with the tree he had narrowly missed breaking his nose on earlier.

Holding still and thinking ahead was a skill he had improved at since his teenage years. It was high time he employed it. So he sat, considering his situation. Prudence would dictate that he prepare just in case those thick white strands actually were the remains of acromantula webs. A case might be made that a lack of prudence was what led him into this situation in the first place, but that was neither here nor there. Having mental debates about how his actions had led him to his present condition did not change the fact that he was by himself, lost in an unknown forest with no idea on how to get out, let alone back home. Harry didn’t even know if using magic here would attract attention, let alone if would be positive or negative. Thinking ahead was difficult when he had so little information to go on.

He stood, reaching into the moleskin pouch that he’d taken to carrying around with him at all times. If he had only learned one thing in his not too many years it was: that the only part of life that was predictable was its unpredictableness. Best to make being flung about by the vagaries of fate as comfortable and non life threatening as possible. He threaded the lightweight armor on, because really, judging by the size of what remained of those webs, some of those acromantula were bordering on gigantic. 

That the armor gave him a confidence boost was only a bonus to his increased security. He definitely did not think it looked incredible. As proof, he was even covering up most of the incredibleness with something that was either a short robe or a long jacket. Fleur had given it to him one birthday and he hadn’t dared ask about the article of clothing. In his defense she was frightening when angry, and who wanted that over some clothes? He couldn’t complain about the blue jacket-like-thing, it fit well over his armor. Even if it made him look less warlike, it also hid the sword on his back for when he needed the element of surprise. Not that those pesky, magically resistant, creatures with inclinations towards killing him that he kept running into would care about subtleties like a concealed weapon.  

“Point me London.” Asking for Grimmauld place wouldn’t work, the house was still unplottable.Apparently, Harry thought darkly as he watched his wand spin lazily in his hand, London wasn’t going to cut it either. “Point me England.” he commanded without much enthusiasm. The wand continued spin uncertainly. Possibly the magic of the forest was interfering with the spell. He would try one last time.

“Point me closest civilization.” As his wand swerved unerringly to point slightly to his left, he silently prayed that this spell took into consideration what his standards of civilization were. A colony of giant venomous spiders did _not_ meet those standards, despite the structure and intelligence that could be attained by well-established colonies. Hagrid’s opinions on such matters were only applicable when Hagrid was around.  

Harry kept his wand in hand as he weaved his way through the trees. His paranoia had him registering every suspicious noise and twitch of every leaf- which was all of them.The place was eerie, and it would have been even without the monster spider webs, and general lack of color.  

If he had to stay here long he would no doubt develop a nervous tick. Journalists would have a field day with him when he got back. He’d be hounded about where on earth had he disappeared to _this_ time, which would make the tick worse, which would make them all the more curious.His friends would pick up wherever the press left off, nagging him about his habits again, which wasn’t nearly as distressing as the idea that he might not even be on earth anymore. Was a quiet day at a friend’s place too much to expect?

Another black squirrel darted up a tree nearby, reminding Harry that now was not the time to worry. Not about his personal problems at least. The fading light, on the other hand, that was fair game. No self-respecting evil forest would have docile creatures for night life. He checked his path towards what might be civilization one more time. Yeah, still ahead with no end in sight to the trees.  

He frowned, considering the remaining light as he walked.He wasn’t sure how dark it would be once night truly fell, but when sunlight had difficulty getting through, moon and star light wouldn’t do any better. A small part of him was pleased he wouldn’t be seeing the stars that night, as he was afraid they would reveal just how far from home he had accidentally strayed. The larger part of him urged him to hurry and either find a safe place to bunk for the night or to create one.  

Giving in, Harry selected the base of a solid, web free tree, and began to cast wards up that extended a few feet around part of the trunk. They were nothing fancy, but they would be capable of alerting him of intruders and encouraging the more bloodthirsty ones to stay away.He released the sword from his back, then settled himself with his back against the trunk. Harry kept hold of the sheathed sword in one hand and his wand in the other. The last of the sunlight faded, leaving the forest pitch black to Harry’s vision.Which was fine, he would snatch up sleep when he could. Reassuring himself that he’d awaken if anything happened, Harry allowed himself to drift to sleep: weapons tightly grasped and a root digging uncomfortably into his back.

 


	2. The Inhabitants are Hospitable (in their own way)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: contains minor fantasy violence.
> 
> I looked at far, far too many pictures of spiders in the last couple of days. I tried to find images of just spider eyes, that is to say, no longer set in the head. It's surprisingly difficult.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Harry jolted awake a few hours later. If the noise had failed to wake him up, the shudder of his more offensive wards would have. Unholy screeching grated on his ears, and he wondered just what effect the wards were having on what he expected were eight-legged horrors. Harry knew exactly what the wards did to humans: nothing shockingly terrible, but nasty enough to discourage the vast majority of assailants. Either the wards had a different effect on arachnids, or he shouldn’t have trusted that book from the Black library.

Wet slapping noises intertwined with inhuman screams, making it difficult to concentrate. Harry damned his curiosity while slowly lighting his wand to the dimmest he could manage. Hundreds of eyes turned to stare at him, freezing all other motion for a few seconds. Then, recovered from the shock of light, a set of glimmering eyes rushed forward. Harry was just able to make out the bulky body before the monster smashed into the ward line. He felt the wards flare around the intruder that hissed and writhed in agony. Caught in a web of magic, there would be no escape for the oversized pest. 

A moment later the rounded body swelled quickly and popped in a manner reminiscent of a water balloon. Its bodily contents spattered slightly as they sloshed to the earth, but mostly they just spread across the forest floor. Harry noted with relief that the hemolymph and assorted mashed parts were kept on the other side of the wards. He would’ve felt bad about how much pain the spiders were in before meeting their demise had he not been so sure that they were indiscriminate killers. 

As it was, Harry extinguished his wand-light, recast the ward he thought was causing the phenomenon for good measure, then added a silencing charm on top ofeverything. If he could manage to ignore the feeling transmitted whenever one of the monstrosities was caught, he might get a good night’s rest. He closed his eyes, relaxing back against the tree. A bubblehead charm as well, he thought. Whatever their insides were made of didn’t smell nice at all.

The morning came and Harry studiously avoided letting his gaze get anywhere near what was bound to be a nauseating sight. He went through his morning rituals in that manner, which included scarfing down one of the bars from his pouch, and cleaning off any spider pieces that had landed on his clothing during the night. Ideally for both the first and last time. It would be an awful addition to his morning routine.

Necessities completed, he finally surveyed the cesspool. Was he supposed to _walk_ through that? At times like these he wished he had packed a broom in his emergency supplies. Then he could fly over everything that was problematic. Like the entire accursed forest. Harry made a mental note to put a broom into his moleskin pouch, and hang everyone’s accusations that he was obsessed with flying.

Using line of sight apparition would mean ignoring the way the place made his magic itch and the little voice in the back of his head that said events wouldn’t turn out as expected if he did. Since he wanted to return home one day, and because he was surrounded with no good alternatives, Harry stoically marched through the mess. His boots squished when his feet descended and the muck sucked them when his feet rose. In the deepest sections, the dark sludge covered the tops of his boots.

Once through he cleaned himself off again, stripping the leaves and other debris that had started sticking to the mashed spider innards from his knees down. Boots armor, and clothing came charmed to make filthiness nearly impossible, but Harry was already pushing the enchantments to their limits. Satisfied for the moment that nothing was sticking to him that shouldn’t, he double checked he was headed in the direction of what passed for civilization in these parts. In light of his recent experiences however, he needed reassurance.

“Point me evil spider colonies.” he intoned. The wand paused at various orientations, but none of them exactly matched the one he was headed in. He frowned. Someone out there could have a twisted sense of humor. “Point me good spider colonies.” he tried for good measure. Nothing. He wouldn’t be blundering into a nest expecting tea at least. He increased his pace, as wary as he had been the last afternoon. 

Much stagnant air, dark wildlife, walking, and a quick break for lunch later, Harry had startedcounting and categorizing any living creature he crossed paths with. Flies were in the lead at about 948, followed distantly by squirrels, then deer. His wand hand jerked minutely every time he encountered any of them. 

Six more flies came to swarm around his head, causing him to wave them off and shake his head to ensure none of them landed on him. While he moved, a tremor running across a branch caught his attention. 

Harry looked up, straight at the underbelly of a rapidly falling arachnid. 

Acromantulas, he noted, had different underbellies, although these were likely just as soft. Harry raised his wand instinctively. He fired off a curse, barely remembering in time to avoid using inflammatory spells in a forest with malicious magic of its own. The curse tore through the spider, blasting parts of it in every direction except down. 

He turned just in time to break apart a spider leaping at him with the same curse. Its mandibles were only centimeters away when it burst apart. Heart pumping madly, Harry trained his wand on the remaining creatures. They were on the ground, which meant accessing their weak parts and predicting their movements would be more complicated. A gob of dark blood landed on his shoulder, causing him to resolve to use other spells against such juicy opponents.

Three of the spiders started skittering to his sides, moving to surround their immobile prey. In response Harry pointed his wand at the forest floor and made spikes shoot up, tearing at their delicate undersides. He’d misplaced some of the spikes though, and one spider leapt away entirely unscathed, circling behind him while he dealt with the spider that preferred to leave a leg behind than remain pinned to one spot. Its speed and agility appeared undiminished by the loss, and Harry was forced to dodge the airborne body even as he shielded his back from the other. 

The spider had overshot him by several meters. He took advantage of the time spent by the seven legged spider reorienting itself to suspend it high enough in the air for him to slash its belly open. In the moment he used for the kill, the last spider ploughed into Harry, sending him staggering, with claws scraping along his thigh. Their proximity allowed him to send an explosive hex into its eyes, shielding himself immediately afterwards. Flames lapped hungrily, and he backed away from the burning spider. Threat over, he dropped the shield and put out the fires that had spread around the carcass. Then he returned the spikes to the ground and finished off one of the spiders that whose body was still convulsing.

Finding out that there were monsters in the forest willing to attack during he day had not helped Harry’s paranoia. He anchored some proximity alerts to his sword sheath, turned his watch face into a mini foe-glass, and then disillusioned himself. No flies would be needed to warn him of impending attack this time.

* * *

 

Leaves torn by the projectile hurtling between branches fluttered to the earth too slowly to warn the quietly conversing group of the missile’s approach. The noise of of twigs being mercilessly snapped was sufficient to get their attention. One notched an arrow, pointing it towards the disturbance. Others followed suit, and yet another preferred to draw his knives.

“That does not sound like an arrow, or a stone.” the first to notch an arrow murmured with a slight frown. Two others moved slightly to the side as the strange projectile passed through their previous position, embedding itself into a tree. They stared at the object, which appeared to be worse for the wear from its journey.

“Is that a spider leg?” Asked the one who had come closest to being hit, knowing perfectly well that it was. He wasn’t blind. The other who had been nearly brushed by the leg wrinkled his nose, and poked the leg with an arrow shaft. The arachnid’s limb ought to be removed from the tree, but he was in no hurry to touch the sticky appendage.

“At least it will be easy to find the source of the disturbance.” Another commented, nodding at the trail of freshly fallen leaves leading away from the tree they were congregated around. His companions conceded the fact thoughtfully. Whatever was on the end of that path could use the limbs of large venomous spiders as weapons. Hardly normal, and definitely dangerous. It was destroying spiders though, so perhaps they would find an ally rather than enemy. With that in mind, they took off to investigate, steps swift and silent.

* * *

 

With smaller size came smaller noise, and very little warning. Caught off guard, in the effort the blond made of avoiding the first unknown object coming towards him, the second landed in the his braided hair. Which would not have happened if the person behind him hadn’t blocked his path. He turned in order to shove his brother for the offense, but was interrupted.

“Hold still Fili, you have something in your hair.” Nimble hands plucked a dark lump from blond hair, still tacky with dark fluids. Fili grumbled that his hair would not have had anything in it at all if it hadn’t been for Kili’s terrible sense of timing. “Is this an eye?” Kili waved the object cupped in his hand.

“What was that?” the smallest of the group asked sharply, shoulders tense. He was mostly ignored as the rest of the band gripped their weapons and planted their feet more firmly. A member of the company near the scene scrutinized the object that had fallen first.

“That’s an eye you’ve got,” he replied to Kili, “if it’s the same as this one at any rate.” He flicked the eye, turning it over. “Although I’ve never seen any two-legged being with eyes such as these.” 

Voices filled the air, arguing and speculating about where the parts could have come from, who they belonged to, and what danger this posed to them. Through the noise, an exclamation was clearly heard by all.

“Now it’s raining eyes? This forest just gets better.” 

 


End file.
